


Corrupted dreams

by Lycan_Shadvere



Category: No Fandoms
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Dreams, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Major Character Injury, Minor Character Death, Multi, Nightmares, Original Characters - Freeform, Original Female Characters - Freeform, Original Male Characters - Freeform, Panic Attacks, Violence, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:14:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28242195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lycan_Shadvere/pseuds/Lycan_Shadvere
Summary: After watching her mother die in a ghastly fire, Eros starts to experience strange dreams and an even stranger reality.
Kudos: 1





	Corrupted dreams

Dreams do come true. But so do nightmares.

I always loved the rain. 

Mom and I used to sit outside, under this tree, and watch the designs the rain would make in the dirt. I always fell asleep to the sound of the soft patter on the leaves and the ground. She would have to carry me home every time I fell asleep. Sometimes, if I was lucky and it wasn't raining too hard, we would run around, splashing in mud-filled puddles and letting the cool water soak us to the bone. Those times were the best because it meant warm blankets, a cozy fire, and hot cocoa afterwards. She would always add a peppermint stick to mine, in contrast to hers overflowing with marshmallows. 

Back to present day, it's a lot colder than I remember, but the memories still linger in the air. The rain seems sad now, it mourns my loss just as much as I do. It had only been a week since she passed and people were already starting to move on. My aunt, uncle, and cousin moved in with me and my brother so we weren’t lonely. I believe we would’ve been fine by ourselves, but at least I get to keep my room. We were supposed to move in with our dad, but he was still overseas for work purposes. Yeah, work. At least that's the lie we were told. He works for the government and I haven’t seen him since I was two. My money says he's dead. The rain is slowly starting to let up, shaking me from my thoughts. On unsteady legs I manage to stand up, letting my lungs fill up with the cool, damp air. Everything still hurts, my chest, my head, my legs. Stretching, I shake away the pain and grab my bag. I sling it over my shoulder and start the trek home. It's a simple neighborhood. Absolutely nothing special about it, your average suburban area. I know every person in every house. I have tea with Mrs. Anderson every Tuesday after school to listen to her stories and hear the recent town gossip. Her grandkids, Mary, Oliver, and Ruby, live down the street and we attend the same school. There’s the ‘perfect’ family, which include Mr. And Mrs. Collen and their two kids, Seth and Justin. Seth is an abusive older brother, Justin has ran away countless times, their mother's an alcoholic, and their father is having an affair with the neighbor. Yet, they all cover up their imperfections and put on bright smiles and fake flawless personalities. It’s sickening. Mr. Gray, my next door neighbor, is a single father of two dogs and his daughter named Trinity. He works in the medical field and is incredibly kind. The list of the neighborhood antics go on. Finally there’s the victorian house at the end of the street. Simple red brick walls and white trim that has started to gray with age. Mom used to have this obsession with old and historic things. Her collections of objects ranged from ancient Greece to items as recent as a century ago. Due to her obsession—mainly of Ancient Greece—she begged my father to name one of her children after a Greek god. After he had already named my brother Jason, he gave in and let her name me Eros. It's quite ironic actually. I've never had much luck when it came to love. It always ended in lies. Long story short, I don't do friends anymore. 

I go to pull out my key, after finally getting home, and swear under my breath when I can't find it. Instead my feet find the familiar path to the backyard filled with Lush grass from the earlier rain, that squishes under my shoes. The lucky thing about being able to stay in my childhood home instead of moving in with my aunt and uncle, is the giant expanse of forest in the backyard. I spend hours upon hours back there, climbing trees, hiding from the wrath of my Aunt Amanda when I haven't finished my chores, or Uncle Zane when he gets into the liquor cabinet. However my favorite way to spend time back here is in the small treehouse my father built for me and my brother. That's where my feet decide to take me today, hopping over the fence and sprinting out into the shadowed canopy of trees, the deep earthy smell floods my senses and calms me instantly. There are three locations in this world that hold a special place in my heart. The giant Oak in the park—the rain tree—, the school rooftop, and the treehouse. It's the one thing that tells me that my dad might still care about me. I finally reach the ladder, slick with rain, and grip onto the edges. The cool wood feels so familiar against my palm. I haul myself up through the trapdoor and sit on the edge for a moment, letting my legs hang. Yelling and shouting echoes through the trees. First voice is Vex, probably cursing out some kid who looked at him weird. Instead of a snarky retort from a child it's glass shattering and a loud booming voice from a man, his dad . Vex doesn't have the greatest relationship with his dad. It's the kind of relationship where Vex runs away to my house for a month or so while his dad goes ballistic. Alexander King is a terrifying person, he's tall, vicious and cruel. As much as he's told me not to, I pity Vex for having to deal with him as a father. Alexander King never wanted kids, and when his wife died the only reason he kept Vex around was for the life insurance money from the government. Branches snap and boots pound the earth. 

“Eros!! Are you up there!?” His desperate voice rings out through the trees. Even with the underlying pain Vex’s voice was always smooth. That was the weird thing about him, he was terrifyingly calm. The footsteps grow louder, advancing to the ladder. 

“Yeah I’m here,” sticking my arm out through the trapdoor, hauling him up through the opening before slamming it shut. He flops down on one of the beanbags I have up here. Trying to catch his breath he laughs weakly. His fluffy black hair plastered to the sides of his head with rain and blood. Some things to take note about Vex King; hair that’s always unkempt, he has dark hazel eyes, lightly tanned skin, a couple earrings, he used to play football and has some serious daddy issues. I lied, I do have one friend.


End file.
